I love the ocean, and spent last week at the Silver Bank off the coast of the Dominican Republic, observing and learning about humpback whales.

I flew into the city of Puerto Plata, and from there boarded a live-aboard dive boat where I stayed for seven days, nine hours from land. Before I got on board, though, I spent half an hour walking the beach near the marina.

I hated what I found.

Besides bucket loads of smooth green, blue and white sea glass, I found old flip flops, pieces of brittle, broken plastic, more plastic bags and bottles than I could count, and, oddly, a collection of plastic dolls and doll parts.

Not that the Dominican Republic doesn’t have beautiful beaches – it does. Cofresi Beach, a curved stretch of cream-colored sand, palms and almond trees, just on the other side of the marina, looked pretty tidy. Crews obviously gather trash there.

But nobody seems to care about stretches of beach the public doesn’t see.

It reminded me why it’s important to skip single-use plastics whenever I can. So much of our discarded stuff ends up in the ocean, where marine life eats it or gets entangled in it or it washes up on shore.

It’s not just straws – don’t buy stuff you don’t really need. Bring your reusable bags to the grocery store, regardless of the law. Think before you ask the clerk to put all your purchases in a plastic bag.

Even better, Take Three for the Sea – pick up three pieces of trash (or more!) every time you go to the beach.

Let’s make a difference.

 

 

If you’re looking for discounts for local activities and events, check out the new ATX Pass.

The three-day pass, from the folks at Once There, costs $85 and covers three days of fun stuff, from bike tours and brewery visits to guided hikes and live music.

The idea isn’t exactly new – companies like City Pass offer destination passes.

“But they focus on the attractions, the museums or amusement parks or all those things that aren’t hard to get into,” says John Weimer, chief executive officer of Once There, an Austin-based company that sells the passes. “What we’re doing is tours – live events as well as attractions. Anything you might want to do while you’re in a particular destination, we can make it easy to book all that in a single pass.”

So far the passes are only available in Austin. A quick scan of current offerings turned up tickets to a production of Fiddler on the Roof at the Bass Concert Hall, a University of Texas basketball game, a Round Rock Express baseball game and the rodeo.

The passes are designed with tourists in mind, but I could see buying one as a local.

“It’s kind of an all-you-can-eat for a traveler,” Weimer says.

The passes sell for $85 per adult or $45 per child. Depending on how energetic you are, that could be a really good deal.

“The average item in there is about $35 a person, so if you did three of them over 72-hour period you’ve saved money, and if you do five you’ve saved a lot of money,” Weimer says.

To purchase a pass, go to atx-pass.oncethere.com. Passes are issued electronically.

 

 

Laurie Allen, who knows a thing or two about how an accident can change the trajectory of your life, contacted me recently to let me know about a film that will premiere at South by Southwest this weekend.

The documentary film “Any One of Us” tells the story of professional mountain biker Paul Basagoitia, who suffered a spinal cord injury in 2015. It describes struggles that Paul – and Allen, and anyone living with a spinal cord injury – face after their injury.

Screenings of “Any One of Us” are scheduled for 5 p.m. March 9 at the Atom Theater at the Austin Convention Center, 7:30 p.m. at the Rollins Theatre at the Long Center, and 9 p.m. March 14 at AFS Cinema. (For more information about film showings, go here)

Allen, an avid triathlete with a host of Ironman finishes to her name, was soaking in a hot tub when she got out to cool off in 2015, the same year Basagoitia was injured. The side was icy, and with no railing to stop her, she fell 10 feet, fracturing a vertebrae and tearing ligaments in her neck.

She underwent surgery the following morning, but the damage was severe. Initially she couldn’t move anything below her shoulders, although she now has some function in her arms and hands.

Allen hasn’t given up racing. She competes in area runs using a special hand cycle. Read my story about Allen’s return to racing here. 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Texas Land Conservancy, a non-profit organization that works to protect land around the state, will host a fund-raising yoga class Sunday in Manor.

The “Om on the Range” yoga class is scheduled for 10 a.m. at a site overlooking Comanche Crossing, a property protected by the conservancy.

Cost is $5 for Land Conservancy members or $15 for non-members. (Become a member for $40 and get a spot in the class.)

Space is limited. To reserve your spot go here.

I’ll admit it. My feet tend to stink.

I wander around the house sock-footed, I put my semi-wet feet into socks after swim practice, I ride my bike and run all over town and rarely change socks, and, worst of all, I dunk my shoe-and-sock encased feet in cold river water during paddling expeditions.

Smelly socks are sort of a way of life.

So when a company tracked me down and shipped me three pairs of what they described as odorless socks and asked me to try them, my expectations were about as low as my feet.

The MP Magic socks, made by a Chinese company called MP Glovax, sell for about $10 a pair. That’s probably three times more than you’d pay for a pair of plain old socks, say, at Target or WalMart, but only about half as much as I’ve paid for a pair of SmartWool hiking socks (which I sometimes find on sale for half that at REI.)

The SmartWool socks feel great and last for years, so I’m OK with that. Could Magic socks stack up?

These weren’t just ordinary socks, the Magic socks maker told me. They were made with fabric interwoven with invisible-to-the-eye bits of silver, copper and zinc, which, they claimed, provide antibacterial properties.

I unwrapped three pairs – two extremely thin, crew-high socks (one gray and one black) and one thicker, cushier pair of ankle high sports socks.

Let’s dismiss the thin ones right away. I wore them one day and they weren’t cushy enough and they didn’t stay up – they inched their way down every dozen or so steps. No thanks.

But the sports socks! Soft, tight enough to cradle my foot but not constrict it, and tall enough to stay out of my shoes but short enough that I didn’t have to worry about them sliding down.

I walked around with one Magic sock and one well-worn Smartwool sock. I walked in wet grass without shoes.

Hours later, I bent myself into a pretzel for the sniff test. My old sock stank. The sports sock didn’t stink as much.

Still, I’m not sure – the old sock was, well, old. The test sock was new. That’s probably not a fair comparison.

But here’s the deal.

I don’t care. I’m used to stinky feet, and I’ll continue to abuse my socks. My new Magic sport socks feel good, they fit right, and whether or not they fend off the funk doesn’t matter to me.

I’ll ditch the thin ones and hang onto the sports ones.

 

 

I did it! And yes, I’m bragging!

Yesterday, I backed my Woolly Bear trailer down a long, narrow driveway and set up camp entirely on my own.

A friend had alerted me through social media that I might bump into a woman named Marilyn Harlow of Oregon, who is traveling the country with a similar rig, when I got to Village Creek State Park near Beaumont.

I spotted her as soon as I arrived.

“It’s my sister,” she hollered, even though we’d never met and she had no idea I was coming. She explained, as she busily uncoupled her trailer from her truck, that all outdoors-loving women were bound by Mother Nature.

I told her I didn’t know what the hell I was doing when it came to backing up a trailer, and to please not laugh as I tried. My first night out, I explained, a guy in the neighboring slot took the wheel and did it for me. I was new at this.

Instead of laughing, Marilyn, who just turned 70 years old this week, offered me some solid advice about backing up a rig, then let me alone to try it myself.

It took 17 tries, but I did it. I backed that sucker in just perfectly, deployed the trailer-top tent and crossed my arms with satisfaction. Then Marilyn trotted across the street with a stool and helped me put on the rain fly, because the skies were turning dark and rain was coming. (It’s a good thing she did; it poured.)

Texas marks state 12 of 48 for Harlow, who hit the road in October 2017 after selling her condo in Oregon.

“I had a beautiful condo and lived in wonderful neighborhood, but couldn’t afford to do anything but pay for that condominium and live that day-to-day existence,” she said. “Which wasn’t bad, but I love to travel.”

She bought a Teardrop trailer and a roof-top tent, and calls the set-up her two-bedroom apartment – she sleeps up top if it’s nice, but if it’s really cold she can bed down in the enclosed Teardrop.

“I simplified my life,” she said. It feels good when everything is bought and paid for.

She was on her way to the local library, but promised to chat more when she returned. After I went for a hike around the piney park – part of the facilities are still closed due to storm damage two years ago, but should reopen this summer – I dropped by to say hi. She pulled up a chair for me and we talked about women and camping.

“I like being outside. I like eating outside, being, breathing, walking outdoors,” she said. “It’s especially nice when the sun shines.”

Sometimes, though, women get the idea that they can’t do it by themselves. That’s wrong.

“My message is that women do not be afraid to be alone in the world. There’s nothing that I’ve feared out here, and especially in campgrounds. I’ve never felt so safe in my life,” she said.

She doesn’t make reservations as she goes; she wants flexibility. She gets advice about where to stay from people she meets along the way.

Her next stop is Louisiana. After that, she says, she’s turning left at Mississippi and heading north toward Wisconsin.

Early on in her adventure, people helped her when she needed it, and she did.

“I had a lot of different angels along the way,” she says. “There’s many things I didn’t understand about leverage and leveling. They were there for me and showed me. I’ve learned over time that I can do it – It’s learning that and getting past it, both mentally and physically. The confidence comes in doing It.”

Yesterday, she was here for me.